*Disclaimer*
there's topics discussed in this chapter that might be triggering to some people, so if you struggle with discussions of eds and su!c!dal tendencies, please read at your own risk. there is markers of when these are discussed!!
-aurora
*Peeta's POV*
I sit at the table with Katniss, watching as she stares off into the window. Although she still hasn't made her decision on what to do about Gale, I know deep down that she wants to be the one to execute him. Somehow in that twisted mind of hers, the idea makes sense. And even though I think it's a horrible idea, if it's what she truly wants, I'll support her. I chose that twisted mind years ago, and I'm not giving up on it now.
I continue watching her until I notice her face change expressions and her begin to look at me.
"Peeta?" She asks quietly, and I nod to show her my acknowledgment. "Do you remember when you said I can't be the one to execute Gale?"
"Yes," I say shortly.
"I was hoping that you would reconsider that statement." She remarks as she pulls her knees to her chest tightly. "I feel like I need to do this, and I know you don't like the idea, but I just want you to try and change your mind."
"The only reason I'm against it is for your well being, darling." I start. "I don't want to see you regret it and then fall down a dark hole."
"I don't think I will." She looks at me for a moment, and I sigh before looking away.
"At the end of the day, it's your decision. I can't tell you what to do, we both know that. As long as you're happy, I'll be fine with whatever you decide to do." I reassure her, and she stays tucked into her knees.
I watch as she processes my thoughts, and then goes back to looking out the window. I wish she could talk to me about why she's choosing to do this, but I know she would never be able to communicate her feelings on that level—she's never been able to do that, and certainly wouldn't be able to now.
I'm startled from my thoughts by Katniss dropping a glass on the ground; causing the glass to completely shatter across the floor. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes, and I stand up from the table.
"I'm so sorry." She says quickly. "I wasn't paying attention, I—"
"It's okay, Katniss." I say quietly. I grab the broom from the tall cabinet and I begin sweeping up the shards of glass. "Don't move from that chair, darling. You'll get cut from the pieces."
"I'm sorry." I hear her whisper, but I just give her a soft smile before double checking the floor for any pieces that might've gotten left behind.
I throw away the pieces in the trash can under the sink before washing my hands. I watch her from the corner of my eye as I scrub my hands.
I watch as she sits there frozen, and it worries me. If she gets this upset about accidentally breaking the glass, how will she be able to handle the stress of killing another person? She struggled for so many years with the guilt of the hunger games and the guilt of the revolution—I can't imagine what adding onto that list would do.
_
*TRIGGER WARNING*
*Flynn's POV*
I watch as the sunlight shines onto her face, and I smile at the sight. She looks so peaceful, and I'd give everything just for her to be like this all of the time. I wish there was someway I could redirect all of the pain she's going through to me. I'd take any amount of pain for her, just to see her be somewhat content.
She begins to move slightly, but I keep my arms around her. I watch as she starts to awaken, and she finally opens her eyes to see me. She meets my eyes and then covers her face in her hands before hiding her face in my chest. I suppress a frown before moving around her, tucking her hair behind her ear so I can see her dimples.
"You can't hide in my chest forever, sweetheart." I remark, watching her try to bury herself even farther.
I trick myself into thinking that I don't know why she's doing this, but in reality, I do. I force myself to believe she's just shy, but I know that it's because she doesn't want to talk about last night, or anything that's happened to her.
"You're going to hurt yourself," I say, pulling her up gently. She looks at me through her blonde hair, and I brush it away from her blue eyes. "I think we should talk."
"I don't want to." She says, huffing as she pulls her knees to her chest. I sit up, leaning against her headboard, and I pull her slightly closer.
"I know and I'm sorry," I start while looking at her. "But if we don't talk about it, you'll go and do it again, and I don't want you in any pain, Willow."
Her eyes tear up, and I watch as she looks away from me to prevent the tears from falling. This breaks my heart, and it hurts even worse to know that she's tearing up because of me.
"I want to be dead, Flynn." She says quietly, and I reach over and grab her hand, brushing my thumb back and forth against the back of her hand. "I thought that if I did that, I'd somehow die."
"Willow," I start, but she cuts me off.
"I know I'm selfish for that, and I know I'm ungrateful for what I have. But I want to be dead. I want to be able to think about other things besides death—I don't even know why I think about it so much. And the only way to do that is to die."
A tear falls down her face, and she tries to wipe the oncoming tears before I can. I pull her into my arms, and I begin comforting her. She cries into my chest, and I smile once I see the tear stain on my shirt, but this smile quickly falls off my face once I remember what she's crying about.
"You are not selfish or ungrateful at all, love." I start softly, moving my hand up and down her arm.
"You can't control how you feel, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it. I'm not mad at you for feeling this way, I just want to help you. I want to help you because you matter a lot to me, and I don't want you hurting yourself." I say, and she cries even more.
I can feel every individual piece of my heart begin to shatter, and I feel a wave of pain throughout my body. I can't decide whether the pain is from my surgery or from her, but either way I wish it would stop. I can't comfort her as well if I'm pain, because my full undivided attention won't be going just to her.
I wait for her to stop crying, and once she does, I take a deep breath. I ignore the pain I'm in by gently combing my hand through her hair, and I watch her take sudden breaths, due to her past cries. I reach down and pick up her chin in my hand, bringing her attention to myself.
"Willow, listen to me." I start, and I watch as she looks at me. "The next time you think about hurting yourself, you're going to call me."
"I'm not going to burden you like this again, Flynn." She starts, but I shake my head at her.
"You're going to call me when you feel like this, and I'm going to come over." I begin, keeping her chin in my hand. "Instead of cutting yourself, you're going to cut me." I say, removing my hand from her chin to pull up my sleeve as demonstration.
"No," she huffs, and she begins to pull away. "I'm not going to hurt you, I—I can't."
"You're going to hurt me either way, sweetheart." I remark, and I watch as she looks like she's going to burst into tears again, tears lining her waterline. "Please don't cry, love."
She sits there for a few moments before drying her eyes and looking at me. I give her a weak smile, but she doesn't laugh. She looks like she contemplates something, but I don't know what. She looks back up at me, and I can see the pain radiating from her, almost pleading with me not to talk about this anymore.
I stand up from her bed, and I pull her with me, careful not to touch her wrists. She flashes a small smile, and I know the Willow I love is somewhat in there. I look down at her, and all I can think about is how unbelievably beautiful she is, even with her tear-painted face.
"Please stay with me," I remark. "I need you."
"I'm trying." She says, and I nod my head in acknowledgment.
I take her face in my hands and I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering slightly before pulling away.
*SAFE TO READ*
I reach down and take her hand in mine, and I carefully pull her along with me, leaving her room. I begin to walk down the stairs, and I notice she drops my hand once we meet a certain point on the staircase.
I don't become upset with this action, because I understand that she doesn't want to draw any attention to her wrists and arms.
I turn the corner to find Katniss sitting in a chair, and Peeta standing at the sink. He looks up at me and smiles before motioning for me to stop.
"Careful walking through there," he says pointing at a spot on the floor. "Can you make sure I didn't miss any pieces of glass?"
"What for?" I ask, bending down to get a closer look.
I scan the floor until my eyes land on a singular shard of glass that would be unnoticeable if you didn't look closely. I pick it up before standing and throwing it away in the trash can.
"I dropped a glass." He explains but I can tell by Katniss's face that it most certainly was her that dropped it, not him.
I drop the subject and begin washing my hands as well, just to be sure there's no small shards of glass anywhere on my hands. I glance up to see Willow standing against the doorframe, and I try to read her expression, but it's no use.
As I'm doing this, I get a stabbing pain in my abdomen, and I respond by bending over slightly. I clear my face from any signs of pain and I try to ignore the radiating pain that is occurring. I dry off my hands before standing at the sink for a moment, collecting myself before accidentally making a scene.
"Flynn, do you want something to eat?" Peeta asks me from the table, his hand entwined in Katniss'.
I shake my head with a fake smile plastered to my face, and I make my way towards the corridor.
"No, thank you." I start. "I have to go home and take care of my mom."
"Will you be back later?" He asks, and I quickly peer over at Willow before looking back at him.
"I'm not sure." I fake through the pain the best I can, it being very challenging nonetheless.
Another pain hits me, and it almost feels worse than when I was in the hospital. I watch as he smiles at me and I turn around, meeting Willow's face.
"Eat something." I whisper, and I can hear the shake in my voice. Her face turns from annoyance to concern, but I dismiss it by walking away.
Just as I reach the door, she grabs my wrist to stop me. She looks up at me, and I fight the urge to wince in pain.
"Willow," I start, gesturing towards the door. She lets go of my hand and crosses her arms in front of her chest.
"Will you call me later?" She asks, but her eyes don't meet my face.
In fact, they're staring at my abdomen, and I can tell she knows why I'm in such a rush.
I nod my head, and then she gives me one last look before turning around and walking away. I shut the door behind myself and I hurriedly walk to my house, sighing as I reach the front porch. I open the door to see all of the lights still off, and it almost looks as if the house has been preserved for years. I ignore the eerie feeling and I move towards the kitchen, grabbing my pills as quickly as I can.
"Flynn?" I'm startled by the sound of her voice, and I look over to see her curled up on the couch.
I swallow my pills down before making my way towards her, and I sit down on the seat across from her.
"I'm sorry, Flynn." She starts.
"It's okay," I remark, trying to feel remorse for how I treated her once I got home. "I should be the one who is apologizing."
She doesn't say anything, and I search her pale face for an answer. She stares at the floor, and I can tell that she's not fully here. I watch as she shakes slightly, and I frown at the sight. I stand up, walking over to the basket next to her, and I grab a blanket. I drape it over her shoulders, and I somewhat see a smile from the gesture.
"Do you need anything, Mom?" I ask finally, and I notice the pain in my abdomen is slowly becoming less apparent. She doesn't respond, and I take that as a no. I brush my hand along her shoulder before making my way up the stairs towards me bedroom.
I regret saying that I'm embarrassed to call her my mother, because I'm not. She's always going to be my mother, and I have to learn to live with that. But sometimes, I wish she could just be happy. I wish she could just be happy.